


tender curves

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Belly Kink, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Chubby Armitage Hux, Insecurity, Love Bites, M/M, Marking, Self-Esteem Issues, soft hux needs all the love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 22:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Hux likes the arrangement he and Ren have. Quick trysts in his office, clothes on, no messy feelings spared between them.He'd prefer to keep it that way, but apparently Ren has other plans.





	tender curves

**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea of Hux with a little bit of stomach pudge that he's insecure about, but that Kylo loves and lavishes attention on. I just think it's perfect and wanted to write it!

If it were to become known, throughout the Order, that its top commanders were engaging in illicit activities while on shift, Hux couldn’t even begin to imagine the ensuing scandal and shame. He and Ren both play a dangerous game, risking both ridicule and _punishment_ from the Supreme Leader himself lest they be caught.

Yet Hux has allowed it, for the time being, as it helps to alleviate some of the tension that tends to build between the two of them. Though he’ll never accept Ren’s claim to power, no matter what Snoke says, it does make it easier to get things done around the ship when they aren’t constantly at each other’s throats with intentional obstructions.

Which is not to say that he doesn't have _conditions._ Because he does. Three, as a matter of fact, rules that Ren must adhere to if he wants this relationship to continue. 

One, they’re not to have sex in either of their quarters, mostly because Hux doesn’t want Ren thinking he can intrude on his private time whenever he pleases. And considering how shabby and wild he seems when he’s out and about, Hux is a little reluctant to see and _smell_ what the interior of Ren’s quarters might be like. Thus, they usually end up consorting in Hux’s office or in one of the meeting rooms only ever used for special functions. Once, even a utility closet in one of the Finalizer’s many hallways bore witness to their fraternization, though Hux is not very eager for a repeat of _that_.

Two, Ren must refrain from making any marks upon his neck, where they could be easily seen by his officers. Rumors spread even amongst the regimented ranks of the Order, and he doesn’t need any sordid speculation gallivanting about that might undermine his position. And while marks could be concealed with makeup in the worst case scenario, it’s good to give Ren boundaries lest Hux ends up as bitten as a swamp trooper without the proper repellant.

And lastly—Ren must never see him wholly naked.

This condition is a little more personal, and less practical than the other two, and though Hux told Ren it was merely for expediency’s sake—their trysts are always quick, wedged in the gaps of their respective schedules, so a full undressing is unnecessary—really it’s the idea of another person seeing him nude that sends unpleasant feelings tingling up his spine.

So whenever they come together, Hux keeps his uniform jacket on and his jodhpurs undone just enough to give Ren enough access to get the job done. Hux even keeps his gloves on, despite the sweat that beads on his palm during the act, far preferring to remain as composed and dressed as possible as Ren fucks him.

All because Hux is—to put it _very_ lightly—not comfortable with his body.

Truth be told, he can’t remember a moment where he was happy inhabiting his current form. His father, the cadets at the Academy, as well as more mouthy onlookers, never shied away from informing him of all his physical deficiencies, and as much as Hux is loathe to give _any_ of those groups credit, they’re not entirely _wrong_.

It’s not that he’s overweight, quite the opposite, but his body is certainly that of an _officer_ rather than a field combatant. Despite his lack of indulgences, life spent on the command deck instead of the _Finalizer_ ’s training facilities has left him with thin limbs and a small, soft pot belly that sits contently between his hipbones, not budging no matter the means taken to shrink it.

As such, Hux feels far better when he seals himself up in his uniform, letting sleek, _structured_ black cover up any and all imperfections. It can’t quite replicate the natural bulk of muscles, but it’s enough to keep Hux’s confidence high as he struts about, maintaining the air of strength and capability he so desires.

That he wants to keep hold of whenever he couples with Ren. Hux figures he’s already letting his co-commander see him in a fairly vulnerable state, pierced on the end of his cock, thus he needs to assert some degree of control over the situations. Set some boundaries Ren could not violate, lest he risk an abrupt end to their engagement.

Besides, he’s sure Ren wouldn’t want to see the real General Hux anyway. No one else in his life has.

* * *

Hux is working in his office, scanning over line-items in the most recent budget, when the door slides open. He’s not surprised to see Ren, as he’s the only one who can access his office without needing to be admitted by Hux himself. The general leans back in his chair, quickly noting Ren has his helmet removed, letting his hair cascade freely about his shoulders. It’s a silent code they’ve come to adopt—covered means business. Bare is pleasure.

“Hux.”

“Ren,” he sets aside the budget, leaning forward on his palm, “you always know right when to interrupt.”

Hux didn’t count on having sex today, but now that Ren is here it’s hard to resist. He’ll admit, there’s an odd charm about the man, especially when he takes off that damned helmet. Hux understands his purpose, appreciates it as a means of intimidation, but he enjoys the privilege of witnessing Ren’s boyishly askew looks.

Hux rises from his chair as Ren circles around the desk, meeting him in one kiss, then another. He rests his hands against his co-commander’s chest, pleased by its size and shape. Though he’s never seen him without his robes and tunic, his muscular build is obvious, and Hux loves letting his hands indulge in it.

Nevertheless, he soon pulls away from their kiss, hands falling to the fasteners of Ren’s pants, eager to move on with this. Entertaining as liaisons with Ren can be, he _does_ have to stick to his schedule in order to ensure all his duties are finished on time. But Ren stays his hands.

“Wait.”

Hux pauses, though he lifts his eyes and narrows them in irritation.

“What?”

Ren’s looks off to the side, lips working like he’s trying to think of how to phrase what he wants to say, before glancing back to Hux.

“Can I see more of you?”

Hux furrows his brow.

“What do you mean, more?”

“I mean,” Ren mumbles, gesturing vaguely at him, “if we’re going to keep having sex, I want to see what you look like. Beneath the uniform.”

Hux stills, suddenly feeling as if Ren has stuck a finger in between his ribs. He realizes he must have had _some_ curiosity about what Hux looks like naked, but he didn’t expect Ren to ever _ask_ it of him so bluntly. How is he supposed to respond? His mind flickers, wrestling with the question.

“A silly thing to ask. What difference does it make whether I’m clothed or not?” Hux dismisses. “You’re getting the exact same thing out of it.” An orgasm is an orgasm, after all. If Ren comes in the end, he should always leave satisfied.

“You don’t think it’s a little strange? That we’ve been doing this for awhile now, and I’ve never seen you naked?”

“No. I don’t think it’s strange at all.”

“Couples usually see more of each other’s bodies when they have sex.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing we’re not a _couple_ , now is it?” Hux hisses, quickly tiring of this conversation. He doesn’t quite understand why this is such a sticking point for Ren. _Really_ , can’t they just get on with what they’re both here for?

“Will it make you feel better if I do it first?” Ren asks, already taking off his gloves. He drops them to the floor, a proposition. His hands look far larger bare than they do wrapped in leatheris, with all the strong bones in his hands and protuberant knuckles fully on display. Briefly, Hux wonders how they might look gripping his hip, first in contrast with backdrop of sleek black uniform, then against the familiar softness of his own flesh. His and Ren’s most intimate layers, brushing up against one another.

Hux quickly banishes the image from his mind with a stern shake of the head.

“No, I—that’s not necessary. We can just do things as we normally do.” Hux can hear a slight pleading tone wend its way into his voice, and it bothers him. Ren should understand not to push this, then again he can be fairly unintuitive for a man who can read minds.

“What if I want to change what we do? Move on to the next level? Hux,” Ren breathes as he leans into the general’s space, “I want you naked.”

Hux makes a noise in the back of his throat. He can’t decide if it sounds repulsed or needy, mind unable to wrap around exactly what he wants. What _Ren_ even wants. Does he think Hux is hiding some chiseled, breathtaking musculature underneath his uniform? That the Order’s eminent general has been concealing the figure of an Adonis out of some misplaced shame that can be easily fixed with compliments and assurance?

Ren might say he wants to see Hux naked, but if he does he’ll no doubt be disappointed in what he finds.

“I can’t understand what possible motivation you have to lie,” Hux snaps, tightening his arms around his body. “Unless you means to use what you see against me at a later date.”

“Don’t you think I would’ve already blackmailed you if that was my goal?” Ren declares. “How many times have we had sex already?”

 _Far too many_ , Hux thinks glumly, regretting starting this engagement a little bit. He thought Ren might’ve been content with the terms as they were, not push him for _more_.

“Believe me, Ren. You don’t want to see it.”

“But I _do_ want to see it,” Ren presses, his fingers traveling up the general’s chest towards his collar. “Hux. _Please_.”

As his hands brush up against the fasteners holding his jacket around his throat, Hux snaps and recoils, slapping away Ren’s hands. His eyes widen as he takes a long step back, his own fingers now gripping into his clothes.

“You really wish to see what I look like, you nuisance? _Fine_ ,” Hux hisses, shaking, as he starts to unzip the front of his uniform jacket.

The rest passes in a bit of a frenzy. His belt falls to the floor, followed by his jacket. The padded blouse and undershirt then follow, quickly rolled up and over his head and tossed to the side. Then, finally, his jodhpurs sink down his legs, kicked off along with his boots.

It’s like pulling off a strip of bacta, done too quickly to leave Hux much room to regret it until he’s standing in front of Ren’s eyes, stripped down to only his black undergarments and amusingly enough, his gloves, which he’d forgotten in his haste. But the shame settles in soon enough, once the manic undressing is finished, and he realizes he’s standing naked in his office, his thin arms and plump belly on display for Ren to criticize.

Hux wraps his arms around his middle, looking away from him.

“Apologies if this is not what you expected,” He scowls through his teeth, feeling his cheeks flush hotter, “I understand if you do not wish to continue this arrangement.”

Hux fully expects ridicule. Harsh words and unkindness, much like what he’s used to.

What he doesn’t expect is for Ren to surge forward and kiss him with far more vigor than he’s ever felt from him before.

Ren easily parts his lips thanks to Hux’s surprise, tongue invading his mouth, insisting upon deepening the kiss. Hux braces his hand against Ren’s shoulder, not quite pushing him away but keeping a sliver of space between them even as the intensity of the kiss heightens. Finally, they part, and Hux feels dizzy, pinched of breath.

Ren’s hand drifts to his hip, cupping it. Hux flinches, self conscious at how it fills out into his palm.

“You were hiding this from me all this time?” Ren’s thumb strokes over where his hip flows into the curve of his belly.

Hux frowns.

“Not _hiding_. You had no need to see this. You got the job done well enough without seeing this part of me.”

“ _Job_ ,” Ren repeats, with a quiet snort. “This is more than a _job_ to me.”

Hux furrows his brow.

“Perhaps it’s not a job in the traditional sense, but—this is all merely stress relief, isn’t it?” he asserts. “You don’t need to take it so seriously.”

“I’m not being _serious_ , I’m being honest.” Ren steps in close, and though Hux feels the urge to move away, maybe even kick him out of his office, he stays in place.

Ren’s reaches out, brushing his fingers against his belly proper, and Hux instinctively sucks it in, earning a flicker of a frown.

“Don’t,” Ren murmurs, trailing his fingers in a small circle against the general’s middle, “I like it. Quite a bit.”

“Don’t tell me you—you’ve a _fetish_ , of some sort?” Hux says, edging on disgust.

“No I—I just never expected this of you,” Ren amends. “It’s _different_.”

“You mean disappointing.”

“No, Hux, no. I don’t mean that at all.”

Ren suddenly backs him up against his desk, bare hands coming up to press against his shoulders when his ass hits the edge. Hux moans softly as he’s forced to sit, then carefully pushed to lay back against the cold surface of the desk. He’s surprised at how willingly he goes, guided by Ren’s hands and now looking down the length of his own naked, soft body to watch as Ren crouches between his legs, hands braced against his thighs as he gets level with Hux’s belly. He swallows, watching the little paunch quiver in the cool air of his office. The wispy ginger hairs clinging to the plump flesh flutter with Ren’s breath as he leans in closer, lips parting in curiosity, _hunger_.

The first press of warm, moist lips on his previously untouched skin nearly drives a genuine _whimper_ from the depths of Hux’s chest. Kylo kisses carefully at first, as if expecting Hux to lunge forward and snatch him by the hair, toss him away, but he only watches entranced as he continues lavishing attention on his belly. He kisses closer to Hux’s navel, then down towards his pelvis, where his belly truly plumps out.

There, Ren _bites_.

That does drag a whimper out of Hux’s mouth. His body twitches at the slight jolt of pain, but Ren’s bite it really more of a nibble, taking a small bit of Hux’s flesh into his mouth. He can feel Ren’s tongue press up against it, lathering the reddened skin as he worries it lightly with his teeth. When he pulls back, there’s a freshly swollen patch on Hux’s belly, wet with saliva and engraved with the indents of Ren’s covetous teeth.

“ _Perfect.”_ Ren’s tone is far darker, now, rolling over Hux like a sudden change in temperature. The general’s heart pounds, unexpectedly stirred by the attention on his middle. His cock moves against his thigh, right beside where Ren’s thumb sinks in. It craves consideration, but Ren’s mouth is still too occupied with the general’s paunch to pay it mind just yet.

Hux flinches at another bite, this time near the bronzey hair trailing from his navel, and this time Ren sucks the ample flesh longer, working his jaw as he scrapes his teeth numerous times against Hux’s skin. He wonders if it’ll bruise, if he’ll wind up with marks all along his belly. At least they’ll be well hidden under the cover of his uniform.

As he watches, Hux thinks Ren must’ve been lying earlier. This much attention lavished on his belly definitely denotes a fetish in his mind. But it feels nice, to have even the most distasteful parts of his body _wanted_ with such intensity, so—perhaps it wouldn’t be such a problem if Ren had a particular predilection for his softness.

Soon the entirety of his belly, from the bottoms of his ribs to his pelvis—but especially the lower part, where the flesh swells out properly—is pockmarked in loving bites, damp with Ren’s saliva and smarting in tender little pains that sink into the funny feeling in Hux’s loins. Ren licks his lips, as if savoring some unique taste he’s picked up from Hux’s skin, his eyes dark and lusty as he looks with satisfaction across the part of Hux’s he’s claimed for himself. The general wriggles on his back, wound up by all the attention, by the relief of finally having his body on display and _loved_ for what it is.

“Please,” Hux gasps, cock begging for release, and thankfully Ren finally switches from mouthing his belly to sucking the tip past his lips. The general arches his spine off the desk in response, whispered _yeses_ filling the quiet of the office now that Ren’s mouth is otherwise occupied.

He devours Hux’s cock with enthusiasm, sucking it from the glistening tip all the way down to the base, where the crook of his nose and his forehead brush up against the general’s belly. Hux writhes atop his desk, unable to move far with Ren’s mouth holding his cock and his hands gripping the tenderness of his thighs. He digs his heels into Ren’s back, bucking up against his tongue as he seeks the end of  his orgasm, body smarting with bites, head ringing with praises. Appreciation fed directly into his mind by Ren, pulsating with lust and reverence like a second orgasm building in his skull.

Ren swallows dutifully when Hux comes into his mouth, the tip of his tongue stroking as if to guide all of the general’s release down his throat. Hux gasps and runs his hand back through his own hair, digging his nails into his scalp as his orgasm rocks through him.

Ren pops off of him as Hux lies boneless against the surface of his desk, now warm with sweat beneath him. Above the heaving, bitten curve of his belly, Hux sees Ren skate a hand across his face, wiping a thread of cum off onto his fingers. Hux wants to kiss him, taste his own release on his tongue, his own formerly-detested flesh on his teeth.

Eventually, Ren helps him sit up, letting Hux lean forward against his body as he holds him. The general rests his head against the offered shoulder, his legs dangling loosely on either side of Ren’s hips. It’s probably the closest they’ve ever gotten to a _hug_ , that usual childish intimacy bypassed to get to more carnal pleasures.

Hux realizes, as he rests against Ren’s body, that he’d never taken off any of his clothing apart from his gloves. Now that he’s been stripped bare, he wants to see what Ren looks like as well, if he’s hiding any secrets the way Hux had hid his.

“Do you…” He pants, trailing his hand through Ren’s hair, “would you come to my quarters later? If I invited you?”

Ren turns, nudging his nose against Hux’s cheek.

“ _Is_ that an invite?”

The general’s breath slowly calms, and he closes his eyes.

“I suppose it is.”

Hux realizes he’s breaking another of his own rules, willfully letting Ren penetrate the boundaries he himself set up for his own sanity. It must be a sign of weakness, to collapse so easily with such a small push.

But he’s _never_ felt anything but disdain for his body, until now. Until Ren. Surely that’s worth something.

Hux feels lips brush against his temple, followed by a muttered promise.

“I will be there.”

At that, a smirk plays on Hux’s lips. Suddenly, he’s looking forward to the end of his shift in a way he never has before.  

**Author's Note:**

> Raise your hand if you support soft belly Hux. 
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heir_of_breath7/).


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